


Heroic Rescues

by keirajo



Series: The Prime and the Emperor [5]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Action/Adventure, Complicated Relationships, Drama, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Intrigue, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-11-02 12:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20749496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: A daring plan, a heroic rescue......…....and Galvatron and Rodimus try to talk about what's next.





	Heroic Rescues

**Author's Note:**

> Though I suck at drawing robots, enjoy some crappily drawn robots and chibi forms. XD
> 
> https://www.weasyl.com/~keirajo/submissions/1819475/stormbreaker-at-7  
https://www.weasyl.com/~keirajo/submissions/1821235/a-small-crew
> 
> The final part of the introductory trilogy for this series and main arc. Enjoy. *bows*

** _ Heroic Rescues _ **

Rodimus Prime waited for the break before taking Mayor Nurda to the side—asking if they could converse in a private room. He explained the situation, which had the Grasshopper-Ant male humming with worry in the tone of his voice.

“I’m worried that they might try something dangerous and I don’t want _anyone_ to get hurt,” the flame-colored mech said, softly. “I don’t think that Hala Jurel or his Brexian patroness would be able to do something in another city. Because of your passport system, I don’t think he’d actually be able to get into a different city whatsoever.”

“But _Matron Grena_……….I can’t believe _she’d_ do this,” Nurda muttered, rubbing his forearms together nervously. “_Yes_. I completely understand your concern—and forging peace between Kore and Laka is the _highest priority_ of the Coalition of Clans. I will speak with Miera in Velvt, her clan-city was the alternative we had been considering for the conference………”

“Then **_don’t_** choose that one,” Rodimus Prime said, quickly, stopping the mayor from going over to the communication’s console.

“But why not?” Nurda asked with surprise, stopping where he was.

“If it’s something that was predetermined, then we must assume they have the information that Velvt was an alternative site for the conference,” the flame-colored mech explained, quietly. “It may be possible they have a contingency plan already in place in Velvt. We need to choose _the most unlikely_ location that would’ve been chosen for the conference.”

Nurda paced with even more worry and more humming. “But nowhere else has been prepared and if the Governors feel they’re being slighted in courtesy, they may choose not to continue. _Oh, now what do we do……_…?” He muttered, pacing the room again and humming softly with worry.

“Leave the situation with the Governors to me. I will ensure that they understand these are extra safety protocols, because the peace treaty is wanted by everyone on this planet,” Rodimus explained, nodding and smiling down at the Grasshopper-Ant male fondly. “Incidentally, I _do_ wish to leave a couple of my staff here in Dreal to observe Jurel and watch for him to make a move. Would this be all right with you?” He asked, keeping his voice calm and neutral.

“Which ones did you want to leave behind?” Nurda asked, curious.

“_Kicker and Metalhawk_, both are unobtrusive and Metalhawk used to be in special ops back during our wars,” Rodimus responded, making sure that Nurda remembered who both individuals were, through the early introductions given. “Kicker is the human boy who was watching over my femmeling.”

“_Oh, yes_. The one I gave the armband passport to, your **_ensign_**,” Nurda responded. “I will have my assistant find quarters for your two staff members. Metalhawk is the yellow one that’s a little bit shorter than you, right?”

“That’s right,” Rodimus answered, nodding. “As a special ops officer, he would be used to sleeping outside if you don’t have quarters that would suit him. Kicker would need quarters though.”

“I’ll go and take care of that right now, hopefully we can move the location for the final days,” Nurda said, bobbing his head vigorously. “I am sorry that we’ve already encountered trouble, Rodimus Prime—the Coalition of Clans really wants this peace, but I suppose there are profiteers out there who’d rather see the war continue.”

“Take it from me, I completely understand _that_,” the young, flame-colored mech responded. It flitted across his memories all the times the Quintessons had interfered in societies to make a profit. The Autobot Leader went back into the main conference hall to speak with Governors Orso and Vivera, while Nurda went to make habitation arrangements for Kicker and Metalhawk.

Meanwhile, back on the _Arrowshot_……….

Kicker was leaning back in the chair as Assistant Yana was showing Stormbreaker some more videos about the planet Brex. They’d apparently started with some historical documentation yesterday while he’d been out “_exploring_”. Yana would periodically stop the videos if there was something specific she wanted to talk about—or Stormbreaker would have her stop to ask questions. The red-colored femmeling was taking notes and drawing things in her personal datapad—likely to show Novablaze and Galvatron information about her latest adventure in the world of ambassadorialship.

“Hey, Miss Yana…………so, I wanna ask a question? Why are there such dense jungles between the cities? Have you guys ever thought of paving roads?” Kicker asked, curiously.

“Oh, _that_. **_Well_**. I’m not sure how it is on your planet, but organic worlds need a certain percentage of flora and water to be able to survive into the distant future,” the Butterfly-Bee girl explained, turning to look at the human teenager. “See, that’s why we use airships to get to other cities……..unless you walk there.”

She had been rather surprised when he’d walked in without his exo-suit and said he really didn’t need it in the atmosphere of the ship. Yana realized Kicker really was a “_squishy one_” inside of his armour.

“I hear that. Earth’s put itself into a real precarious situation by cutting down most of the forests and rainforests, draining lakes and things like that,” the young man responded with a nod and a sigh.

“Long ago, our scientists evaluated the planet, the people and the need for it to continue on into the future. There’s a very scientifically detailed historical chain of why we limit the sizes of our cities and why the jungles are encouraged to grow,” Yana continued to explain. “Much of this is why we want the war between Kore and Laka to stop. They’re destroying the jungles around them which will skew the ecological balance of our world and shorten the lifespan of our planet.”

Kicker wished that people on Earth understood ecological balance like _this species_ did. The Brexians didn’t simply “_create greenspaces_” where they had the room—they fit their cities around the forests and jungles and did what they could to preserve the majority of the greenery on their planet. The fact that a primary motivation for having the war between two large clan-cities actually end was to protect the natural environment, that was _not_ something one could overlook. Working with Rodimus Prime would have a lot to show Kicker about the universe and how other species acted and interacted on their own planets—it _wasn’t _just a joyride through space with some tedious work involved. He was learning that rather quickly.

“Say, Miss Yana…………do you know why the Telosian scientist was here? You said he was researching, but do you know _what_ he was researching out in the jungles?” Kicker asked, curiously.

“Not really. It’s not something I was given information on, to be honest, but I thought it had to do with herbal medicines or something,” the pretty Brexian female responded, fluttering her wings lightly.

Kicker rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. Or _drugs_? Could **_that_** be it? Was that one of the things setting off his anticipation engine? Hala Jurel didn’t seem all completely there. If he were cyborged, had he been cyborged on purpose or did he do it for fun? Either way, he might have constant physical pain. As a scientist, he may know the components of drugs and medications and was looking for better sources with which to formulate them. But not just that—to find a drug that would work with-against a robotic-like system, even a partial one, perhaps he was also looking for natural chemicals that might imbalance a Cybertronian as well.

And a profiteer, like Matron Grena seemed to be, would possibly make a lot of money on drugs.

_‘Maybe I’m overthinking this—looking for things that aren’t really there or trying to fit pieces into a completely different puzzle…………but why does it all seem to fit in one puzzle?’_ The teenage boy thought, glancing up and seeing that Yana and Stormbreaker went back to the videos. He got up and went to look for Minerva, to ask her some of his questions.

The small femme was on the bridge, sitting at one of the science stations in the back area, by the doors to the conference room—it looked like she was downloading some stuff onto datapads.

“Hey Minerva, can I ask you a few medical questions?” Kicker asked, looking up at her.

The red-and-white femme glanced at her download status, nodded, and then turned the chair to face the teenage boy. “Certainly, Kicker………what do you want to know?” She asked, smiling down at him.

“Well, do herbal substances or drugs affect _Cybertronian _systems?” The young human inquired, folding his arms across his chest.

“I think that may be dependent upon how it is introduced into a Cybertronian system and the inherent strength of the plant’s chemicals,” Minerva responded, tilting her head curiously at him. It was a very strange and unusual question—certainly one she wasn’t expecting. “Our systems have a pre-programmed flush element that usually clears out unwanted chemicals in the frame’s systems. _However_…………..”

Kicker nodded at her to go on when she hesitated for a very long moment.

“Those who know the internal clocking system for programs and protocols can get around the system flush by turning it off, I suppose. But to introduce foreign chemicals into a frame like plant-based ones for substances or drugs, it could lead to some poor health side-effects in many frames,” the femme medic answered, shaking her head lightly. “We aren’t meant to adapt such organic materials into our frames, water is perhaps the only natural substance we require.”

“_Hmmmm_,” Kicker murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Could it cause problems in a Cybertronian system—I mean affect them adversely without killing them? Like for humans, some drugs and medications do that?”

“I’m curious as to why you’re asking these particular questions, Kicker. Do you have a good reason?” Minerva said, very sternly, glaring down at the human boy.

“Well, I dunno……..I’m trying to figure out why Hala Jurel was here _‘researching in the jungles’_ before we came and why he’d be allied with a rich Brexian. I guess because I’ve seen it in the news so much on Earth and stuff………..I kinda went to the drug angle,” the human teenager replied. “But not just that, Jurel has cyborged components in his body—old injuries or did he do it by choice because he _‘loves robots’_, as he said? If it’s an old injury or maybe even just by installing robotic components in his body, he’s in pain? Maybe he synthesizes a drug to help him with that? Maybe he tests it on the Mini-Cons he has? Maybe he’s convinced Matron Grena to start a drug operation for money? _I don’t know…_……….” Kicker sighed softly.

“_Hmm_,” Minerva murmured, looking back at her datapad and switching it out for another to download things onto. “I think you _might_ have something there. Rodimus has been wondering if the collars are some sort of inhibitors, but what if they’re more than that? What if they’re injecting drugs into a Cybertronian’s system as _‘mood stabilizers’_? It would be tricky to create an inhibitor that didn’t simply shut down a Cybertronian’s neural system, but if this Hala Jurel is using a chemical component to weaken or temper a Cybertronian’s own personal moods and instincts………..?” The _Arrowshot_’s CMO said, firmly. “An untamed, unmanicured jungle would have the purest of natural chemicals and elements. So, perhaps Jurel was here for what he said and decided to stay longer to capitulate on another desire of his………capturing a small Cybertronian?” She continued, looking down at Kicker. “I know you’re remaining behind with Metalhawk, but perhaps you could ask some questions of Mayor Nurda about a few of these things—let him know your concerns. He can check into something like an uptick of drug-use or abuse.”

* * * * *

Novablaze backflipped out of the way of Galvatron’s low-powered cannon blast that hit the ground in front of him. Even though his sire wasn’t fighting at full power or skills in this training session, he was fierce as ever. He didn’t let up—as he watched the young mech able to handle the onslaught of today’s training session, he kept going with determination. Novablaze was happy that Galvatron kept increasing the intensity of the training over the years, even as he saw the mechling was able to handle it and keep going, the powerful Decepticon Leader kept his sessions intense and fierce, even while tamping down the power and skill levels.

The purple-and-yellow young mech transformed into his small space plane mode and barrel rolled before opening up some offensive bursts of fire on his sire. Galvatron hop-stepped out of the way of the small bursts of laser fire and aimed his nova cannon at the moving target.

_‘It may be time to show my offspring what my Prime has taught me about hitting a speedy target,’_ Galvatron thought with amusement as he charged up his nova cannon with rapid piercer shots. He did make sure not to aim directly at Novablaze, however, because he didn’t have control over the power of his piercer shots yet—they were a new style of blast he’d taught himself to use in the last several years, based on the way Hot Rod had fought with him in their sparring. So, the Emperor of the Decepticons kept his target lock function on the entire time as he sent a volley of piercer shots out in a wave pattern, just missing Novablaze with each one.

“_Wow! **Sire!** How did you do **that**?! I’ve never seen you do that before!_” Novablaze gushed with excitement as he transformed back into his primary form and landed in front of the bulky purple-and-grey mech.

“You may thank your carrier for forcing me to think more creatively in combat,” Galvatron said, very proudly. “In the past, I would previously just bring the full force of my power and strength upon any opponent—however, your carrier has shown me that sometimes my opponents may well be faster than I and they would take advantage of that. It has been to _my benefit_, as well as his, that we sparred often in his smaller and faster frame.”

“That’s _so cool_, sire!” The purple-and-yellow young mech said excitedly, clenching his servos into fists and tried to keep from jumping up and down.

“Have you received any messages from your carrier?” Galvatron asked, relaxing as it was suddenly obvious they were taking a break from the combat practice.

“Just that he was busy with the mediation,” Novablaze responded with a grin and a shrug. “Stormy sent me a picture that Kicker took for her of the sunset last night. Stormy was watching some documentaries a friend she made brought over to the ship, so Kicker went outside and took pictures instead. He doesn’t like watching those things much,” he added, laughing softly.

“So, you have adjusted to using your glyph-message system?” Galvatron inquired.

“_Mostly_. Cari sent me a duplicate message because I was too busy to answer the first. I don’t quite have the hang of filing it for later,” the young mech responded with a chuckle. “Stormy i-mailed me her message so I could see it in _‘full resolution’_, she claimed.”

“She does not yet have full control of the skill of glyph-messaging, does she?” The powerful Emperor of the Decepticons chortled, placing a hand on his hip and relaxing the arm with his nova cannon, which still steamed with the recent constant blasts he’d been firing.

“Certainly not with attaching things, for sure!” Novablaze laughed warmly.

“_Nnnngh_, why does your carrier insist on having a fleshling take care of her?” Galvatron grunted, shaking his head with annoyance.

“Metalhawk and Sixshot are there, too……….and Slipstream’s a really good fighter, too. Kicker’s a really good friend of Stormy’s, so she feels comfortable with him. Otherwise, if cari left it to everyone else, Stormy might feel overwhelmed…………with Kicker there she can feel happier about being watched over,” Novablaze said, explaining it the same way that Cyclonus had to Galvatron the past few days. “Kicker’s _really strong_ for a human, Stormy’ll be fine with him.”

That Stormbreaker wasn’t yet very skilled with glyph-messaging was the reason that Galvatron had not tried to glyph-message his youngest offspring very much, as of yet. He had a sort of impatience when he did not receive an immediate response and the powerful Decepticon Leader knew he would make his femmeling worry—as well as make Rodimus Prime angry about constantly bugging their second offspring—if he kept sending many messages until he received a response. So, Galvatron had only chosen short responses in the few glyph messages that Stormbreaker had sent to him.

“That may be so, but this fleshling _did not_ travel with them before,” Galvatron responded with an angry scowl.

“Yeah, that’s true………….but cari promised Kicker that he could come with them when he got older and stronger—he and I are nearly the same age and you respect _my skills_, right, sire?” Novablaze asked, looking up into Galvatron’s faceplate.

“Yes, of course I do. _But he is merely a fleshling_!” The bulky purple-and-grey mech said with a deep groan.

_‘It really **is** difficult to get sire to see any sort of benefit to humans or other organic creatures,’_ Novablaze thought to himself. “Don’t worry, sire—just look forward to the fun stories that Stormy will tell us when they stop by Chaar on the way back to Earth, okay?” The young mech said, grinning up at his sire fondly. Over the years, he’d learned why Hot Rod had used a tone of deference to Galvatron—why even Cyclonus would do so, even if the purple aerial mech knew that Galvatron was wrong or ill-informed about things. It was better to keep Galvatron happy than to be any sort of antagonistic and piss him off.

Novablaze had seen Galvatron’s true fury unleashed upon Starscream, back when the Destrons had attacked the entertainment district on opening day. He knew his sire could very well destroy everything if he lost his temper fully—it only showed that his carrier was a miracle worker to be able to contain Galvatron’s fury, by refocusing it in other ways.

“_Oh! Sire!_ You were also going to show me around the planets we have in the system today! _Don’t forget!_ We should go now!” Novablaze said, excitedly. He really loved flying with his sire a lot.

“_Ah, yes!_ Of course, we should go so that we return in time to fuel and recharge properly!” Galvatron responded, grinning wolfishly and catching on to his firstborn offspring’s enthusiasm.

* * * * *

“Firedrive, I want you to prepare my ship for launch,” Professor Jurel snapped.

The Telosian had returned to his ship in the jungle right outside of Dreal in a frustrated ire. Firedrive wished he had the ability to glyph-message his companions on the Telosian’s ship to tell them to avoid him and find work somewhere on the ship out of the way—however, the collar about his neck and the herbal blockers in his system’s prevented him from doing anything normally Cybertronian at all.

“Understood, master,” the grey-and-black small mech responded in soft-toned Telosian.

Unfortunately, as the worst of luck would have it……….Smashdown was busy doing some cleanup work in the corridor leading to the bridge, so the small red-colored mech became the one to take the brunt of Hala Jurel’s ire. Firedrive wanted to stop what was going to happen, but if he interfered—he’d wind up in worse condition than Smashdown was going to be in………..he’d probably wind up like Caliburst, who still hadn’t regained consciousness since the last disciplining he received.

With a soft, internal sigh……….Firedrive turned and walked to the bridge of the ship. Maintenance droids were puttering about the area, cleaning up and doing basic machine maintenance on the _Iron Fleur_’s computer systems. The small grey-and-black mech walked to the piloting station.

“Fleur, what is your operational status?” The mech asked, seeking an updated diagnostic from the ship’s systems.

**<Diagnostics nearly complete, current status 90%.>**

Firedrive read the glyphs on the screen even as the soft warbling from the console responded to his query in the ancient Mini-Cons’ language.

“Fleur, the master wishes to leave—can you pause the diagnostics until we break orbit?” Firedrive asked, tapping a few detailed status messages on his console as he awaited a response. He wished he had Caliburst here on the bridge with him to pilot—the _Iron Fleur_ was designed with a two-pilot system—however this wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to cross panels to work both piloting consoles.

**<Negative. Diagnostic on the engines must be completed before engines can start.>**

_‘Not good at all, the bastard wants to leave now since he can’t kidnap the Prime’s offspring—he won’t take my word for it that the computer’s not done with diagnostics yet. We should **never** have landed in the jungle…………’_ Firedrive thought, giving a deep little sigh. _‘He’s never bothered to understand the workings of the Fleur, the bastard just took my ship as his own and I lost a lot of my comrades on the third moon of Telos.’_ The small grey-and-black mech stood up and walked around the various consoles, reading the update and status messages. “Fleur—is there anything I can do to speed up the diagnostics? We need to be ready to launch now,” Firedrive said, firmly, frowning as he saw some red lined messages on the LS drive’s systems.

“**_Firedrive!_** I _ordered_ you to get the ship going, I’m done being on this humid little planet right now!” Jurel snarled, stomping onto the bridge. “Grena needs me to process the _Corodine_ and pick up the weapons from our alliance agent, for those both I need my lab on Xor.” The red-skinned Telosian grunted and kicked a scuttling little sweeper droid that was racing across the floors of the bridge. The small, half-domed machine on tiny wheels hit the far wall of the bridge with a metallic thunk and clang, then warbled pitifully on its dented dome backside and unable to right itself.

“Master, the jungle atmosphere corroded part of the LS drive’s external portions,” Firedrive reported. “The _Iron Fleur_ has been working on the repairs and is currently running safety diagnostics before we can take off.” The small grey-and-black mech walked over to the sweeper droid and righted it on its wheels, warbling softly at it to go back into its rest area and come back to the bridge to clean later. “If we try to force-start the engines with LS offline, it might damage the impulse and thrust motivators in the engines and do severe damage to the ship, perhaps even offline us completely,” the mech responded, walking back to his piloting station and looked at the diagnostic update on his screen.

“You aren’t lying to me, are you?” Hala Jurel said in a low, dangerous tone, looking down into the small mech’s old red optic glass. “You know what would happen if you try to rebel against me _again_.”

Every time Firedrive and his crew had tried to rise up against their conqueror’s slave collars and the herbal blockers in all their systems—more of the crew was disposed of. Firedrive had originally had a crew of twenty of the small mechs and femmes once called Mini-Cons, though some of them were a different line of Mini-Con called “_Battle Masters_”. Just like the Quintessons had created two slave lines, which had become Autobots and Decepticons—Vector Sigma had created two types of Mini-Cons, all-purpose mechs and femmes called “_Micromasters_” and combat-oriented mechs and femmes called “_Battle Masters_”.

From a close-knit crew of twenty so very long ago to only three of them left in recent decades—and, of course, the maintenance droids to keep the _Iron Fleur_ going.

Maybe only two, Caliburst was in bad condition right now. And Firedrive didn’t know what Smashdown’s current condition was. The collars and herbal blockers kept them from using any of a normal Cybertronian’s skills, such as glyph-messaging, communiques and even their EM fields.

“Even if I really wanted to, I can’t afford to anymore,” Firedrive answered, very honestly, shaking his head. “Master, the _Iron Fleur_ refuses to start the engines until diagnostics are fully complete—the status is at ninety-three percent now. The estimate is about twenty more minutes. I’d like to go check on Caliburst, because it’s too difficult to pilot the _Iron Fleur_ properly without a co-pilot.”

“And yet you have before,” Jurel grunted, folding his arms over his chest with annoyance.

“It’s too difficult, master—and if I keep fumbling about trying to do the work of two all by myself, I may eventually slam us into a moon or a planet,” Firedrive responded, trying to keep his own frustrations out of his voice. “If you’re tired of the _Iron Fleur_—you can use one of your other ships next time. Many of those are far more modernized and aren’t as touchy as my old clunker……….” the small grey-and-black mech said, standing back up and getting ready to go to the medi-bay.

“The _Iron Fleur_ is the only ship I own that has camouflage capabilities and you’re well aware of that,” the Telosian scientist snapped back. “_It’s not yours anymore_, Firedrive, and hasn’t belonged to you in seventeen years.” His dark eyes followed the small mech as Firedrive walked to the doors of the bridge. “You had better be back here in twenty minutes to get this ship moving,” he threatened.

“Understood, master,” Firedrive responded, his voice sounding tired as he exited the bridge and began walking towards the medi-bay. He really wanted to look for Smashdown and see how the red-colored mech was doing, but without the abilities Cybertronians had to communicate with their lovers or comrades, he had no idea where Hala Jurel had taken him off to.

All of the sudden he saw a familiar white-armoured form at the end of the hallway, at the corridor that led towards the engine room. He’d _known_ the other day that it **_wasn’t_** a Cybertronian, he’d had Cybertronians with him, though—the old Mini-Cons that became the legendary energy saber weapon, Firedrive knew _exactly_ who they were, even though he’d never met them……….those three Mini-Cons were truly legendary. The strange-armoured one was making a motion to someone who must have been in one of the branching corridors.

Then the strange one turned and saw him, gave him a thumb’s up as Firedrive cautiously approached.

“We found the bull-like guy in this room over here,” the armoured-stranger said, softly. His voice had only one layer and sounded organic. “Metalhawk says he’s alive, but……..”

“I need to get to the medi-bay anyways, bring Smashdown with you,” Firedrive said in galactic standard, sharply, leading them down to the medi-bay quickly. “I must be back on the bridge in about twenty minutes. I came to check in on Caliburst, but it doesn’t look like he’s in any shape to pilot the Fleur with me, still. I’m _Firedrive_,” he introduced, quickly, having the diagnostic bed scan the unconscious Smashdown.

“I’m _Kicker_. Let’s get you out of here, okay? How many of you are here?” The human teenager said, tilting his head, curiously.

“Just us three, the ship’s mostly maintained by droids now………..” Firedrive sighed, hanging his head as he saw the medical readouts for Smashdown were almost like Caliburst’s now. “Take these two with you. Get out of here, now—I _need _to get the Fleur out to space. If they’re safe, then I can do what I should’ve done all along………..”

“_No, I’m not letting you do that_!” Kicker said, sharply, his senses going wild as he realized this Cybertronian was going to plan a suicidal final option. “Come _with_ us!” He added, grabbing Firedrive’s shoulder tightly. “They can arrest Professor Jurel—_he’s here illegally_!”

“Matron Grena will ensure he gets off free and clean,” Firedrive responded, shaking his head back and forth. “There are _things_…………” the small grey-and-black mech trailed off with a deep sigh.

“That’s why Rodimus needs you to come with us—we need you to explain everything to him. _You_ were there in the Brexian’s mansion—we have video proof of that, so it places you in a hotspot for **_the truth_** for the Mayor of Dreal and all of Brex!” Kicker said, urgently.

“You’re young, aren’t you?” Firedrive chuckled, reaching over and rubbing Kicker’s helmeted head fondly. Then he looked up at Metalhawk. “But _you’re_ not. You’ve been in the war a long time.”

“Even so, Rodimus Prime offers everyone a second chance if they want to take it,” the yellow-colored slender mech said, softly. “I’m not certain you’ve heard everything that’s happened in the past fifteen years, have you? And right now, the allied forces of the Autobots and Decepticons could _definitely _use any information you have.” Then Metalhawk gave a light chuckle and folded his servos into a steepled position beneath his chin. “Actually, I have a daring plan. Jurel can’t pilot the ship—that’s what you’ve implied, right? With the collar, _how much pain can you withstand_?” He asked.

Firedrive tilted his head curiously. This Autobot couldn’t possibly be thinking of………..?

“What are you thinking, Metalhawk?” Kicker asked, looking up at his companion with puzzlement.

“This ship is………we’ll we’d consider it a smaller travel craft—it can fit inside of the _Arrowshot_’s shuttle hangar. Firedrive can pilot it into space, for certain—right into the hangar. That’s what Rodimus wanted, right? For the ship to leave Brex!” The old Autobot special ops officer responded quietly. “Firedrive, I’m going to glyph my partner and have him get Sixshot to bring the _Arrowshot_ out past Brex’s orbit at these coordinates…….”

* * * * *

Firedrive prepared himself for pain the moment the Iron Fleur docked in the Arrowshot’s shuttle hangar. But he was glad he’d gone along with the Autobot’s plan—if only so that their ship’s medic could save Smashdown and Caliburst.

“**_What have you done?!_**” Hala Jurel screeched, immediately pressing buttons on his command bracelet.

The full strength of the herbal blockers flooded Firedrive’s fuel lines and acidic charge rippled through his frame. Even though this might likely be the end for him, he knew that his two remaining companions would be in good servos with Rodimus Prime’s crew.

“**_Rrrraggh_**………_get away from him_!” A familiar, single-layered voice echoed through the bridge.

Firedrive saw one last magnificent sight before he went offline…………that organic wearing armour bearing the great energy sword of legend. At least he knew that his friends would be cared for and the bright future long ago foretold was going to come to pass…………_for all Cybertronians_.

Kicker swung the sword-form of his Mini-Con friends at the Telosian scientist, driving him back against one of the consoles. The Mini-Cons in their sword-form glowed fiercely and warbled low in warning tones. The human teenage boy held the sword firm and the point close to the angry and scared Telosian.

“At ease, Kicker………we’ve got him covered,” Sixshot said, firmly, as he stood beside Slipstream and Metalhawk—all of them held their weapons aimed directly at Hala Jurel. “Professor Hala Jurel, exile of Telos, you are under arrest under Cybertronian law for killing and enslaving Cybertronians—we are given the authority by the Galactic Alliance, as Cybertron is a member of the Galactic Alliance. You will be expedited to Chaar for the time being and when the Galactic Alliance is contacted to see what other warrants are outstanding on you, then you may be sent to stand trial on other worlds to face up to your crimes.”

“_You can’t do this! We’re still_………..” Jurel snapped, glaring at the Decepticon warrior.

“I do believe the coordinates we are at set us just a few yards outside of Brex’s spacial claims, you are in general space in other words,” Metalhawk said, a sly grin curving his lips.

“Slipstream………we **_gotta_** get Firedrive to Minerva right now, he………_his Spark’s fading_!” Kicker cried, tossing away the Mini-Cons in their sword-form as they transformed back into their primary modes and huddled around the fallen grey-and-black mech, warbling softly in their primary language.

The female Decepticon came over and gently picked up the small mech and walked very quickly out of the _Iron Fleur_, heading for the medi-bay of the _Arrowshot_, as Kicker ran fast to follow her, with the Mini-Cons flying behind him. In just a few moments, Firedrive was in the medi-bay……..with his two companions resting on other medical berths in the room. Minerva had Slipstream place the small mech on the operating berth.

“_Kicker, get the frag out of my medi-bay! All of you little brats are crowding my workspace!_” The red-and-white Autobot femme snapped sharply, turning to glare at him and the Mini-Cons as she prepped some surgical instruments.

“_But Minerva_………!” Kicker complained, the Mini-Cons also warbling in chorus.

“The _only_ help I need is Slipstream’s, because **_she’s_** had medical training—_now get out of my medi-bay_!” The CMO of the _Arrowshot_ ordered, letting her field flare out with severe warning so that even Kicker could pick up on exactly what her field was warning him and the Mini-Cons about. Then, as soon as they were gone and the medi-bay doors shut, she sent a wireless lock command to it with her CMO codes. “Slipstream, I know this mech is very weak, but please secure him down tightly—then I want you to place your servos gently around his head. I need you to hold him absolutely still as I cut the collar off of him.”

Once the collar was removed, then Minerva had Slipstream connect the fuel infusion lines and prepped for the remainder of the medical treatment. As soon as she plugged into his dataport, she saw that despite the fact that Firedrive was the most coherent and seemingly-healthy of the three Battle Master Mini-Cons, his entire internal systems were the worst of the three of them. There were programs and protocols severely degraded and would take decades to rebuild their coding, while his internal fuel lines and main fuel pump were worn and hemorrhaging in some areas—_it was a sheer miracle that Firedrive wasn’t long-since-dead!_

“I’m restarting his maintenance programs, but they may not all function properly—we’ll need to do a full fuel-line flush on his systems, but I worry about the microfractures in his fuel-lines,” the small CMO sighed, unplugging from the grey-and-black mech’s dataport and stepping down off of her stand. She began to get more tools for deeper surgery. “Glyph Sixshot, tell him **_not_** to move this ship until I’m done—I’m going to need an hour to seal the microfractures. Have him get Kicker to keep Stormbreaker busy, because I don’t want her getting nosy at the door and start adding her own worries to the boy’s. Make sure Sixshot tells Rodimus what’s up and to be patient, to wait for us to finish this.”

“I’m on it, Minerva,” the teal-and-purple Decepticon femme responded, raising a servo to her audial and sending both a communique and glyph-message to her lover about everything Minerva just ordered her to take care of, then she settled in to help the little medical femme focus on the precise internal surgery on Firedrive’s fuel lines.

_“Join with me, Firedrive……….we’ll find those answers and that path to the future,” a warm voice said to the Battle Master._

_Firedrive looked around the bright environment. He looked towards the figure that was speaking to him. A figure engulfed by flames, blazing……..**burning brightly**……….brighter even than the bright environment around him._

_“We have to go to Cybertron, **we have to speak to Primus**,” Firedrive said, walking up to the form-shaped flames. “Things have changed since Vector Sigma sent us Battle Masters out to find the ones Primus needed to shape the future. **You’re **one of the ones needed, but I couldn’t get to you because the incident on the third moon of Telos. The white-armoured organic—the one who picked up the legendary Mini-Cons and wielded them in their sword-form………..**he’s** another one that’s needed. There are **others**. I know what Vector Sigma sent me out to find, but **I**…………we…………..” the small mech sighed, hanging his head._

_“We’ve had the same visions, then—all of those we’re connected to…………maybe if we all work **together** we’ll find those answers dangling just out of our reach……….” the flame-form responded, kneeling and holding a servo out to the Battle Master. “**Don’t lose hope**. We all fall apart sometimes in our lives and take the wrong path and sometimes hurt ourselves and those around us………..I know **that** for a fact. But when a servo is extended, even in the most unexpected ways—don’t slap it aside, grab for it!” The warm and kind voice chuckled._

_“You are **the Prime**…………the one of fire, of heat and speed? Rodimus Prime?” Firedrive asked, looking up at the swirling, warm flames._

_“Yeah, **that’s** me. I’m using the Matrix to heal the remainder of what Minerva couldn’t physically fix in the surgery—it’s created a bridge of contact between us,” the flame-form responded with a light laugh. “Because **you**—like I did once—need to be urged to live. Don’t be held back by your pain and your regrets, don’t let them drive you to a final end………….join with me and we’ll work together to find everything that Vector Sigma sent you out to do. Trust me, Firedrive—**you really can trust me**!” Rodimus Prime’s voice spoke as the flames swirled warmly around the grey-and-black Battle Master._

_“You’re one of the ones I’ve been looking for, **Primus’ Flame**—now that I’ve found you, I **can’t** afford to give up now!” Firedrive laughed, placing his servo into the small-shaped flame that was extended towards him._

“That should do it,” Rodimus said, closing his chestplate and pulling his plugin cable from Firedrive’s dataport. “The Matrix’s energy should cleanse out the remainder of the _Corodine_ from his systems, but some of the other internal repairs will take more time.”

“The Matrix boosted his self-repair systems? His nanites will function normally now?” Minerva asked, noting the information on a datapad.

“They _should_. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here before you did the surgery, but…………well, it’s all worked out in the end,” the flame-colored mech said, nodding down at his feisty little CMO.

“I suppose I should indulge in a challenge more often anyways. Will those other two be all right? Do you need to……?” Minerva began, nodding at the other two Battle Masters lying in the medical berths on the other side of the room.

“Not compatible, really. I know that sounds weird, but Firedrive is apparently like me—_a crafted Cybertronian_, for a specific purpose,” Rodimus Prime answered, shaking his head as he reached his arms above him and stretched languidly. “But I think those two will be alright—they weren’t as degraded internally as Firedrive was, right?”

“_Right_. Apparently at some point their internal systems claimed _‘enough’_ and simply shut down so the self-repair nanites could work on fixing their internal issues,” Minerva answered, swiping through screens on her datapad as she walked to the door of the medi-bay with her captain. “Firedrive bypassed all of his system safety protocols and measures and kept _enduring everything_—otherwise his system should have shut down long ago. Honestly, if you _‘special ones’_ would quit trying to go beyond your own systems and damage yourselves like this—we’d all probably have a lot less stress in our lives,” she chuckled, swatting Rodimus’ hip with her datapad.

“_Awwww_, but then what would you medics have to complain about?” The flame-colored mech laughed, leaving the medi-bay and heading for the bridge. There would normally be one or two more days left of the peace talks, but the Governors of Kore and Laka—once they’d seen that war profiteers were undermining the peace that the Coalition of Clans wanted and forcing the two largest cities to keep destroying their very world by upsetting the ecological balance with war—they _immediately agreed_ to signing a contract of peace. _‘One more world, finally working towards peace between all its people—**mission accomplished**. So, now we can go to Chaar earlier than scheduled and then back to Cybertron before taking Kicker back to Athenia. Because if what Firedrive and I were talking about meant something, Kicker’s going to have to meet what’s left of Primus on Cybertron—we need to take him to Vector Sigma.’_

Everyone was waiting for him on the bridge when he arrived. Rodimus Prime reached down and picked up Stormbreaker and kept his EM field warm and calm as he hugged her fondly. The red-colored little femme purred and snuggled against her carrier’s chestplate happily.

“Is he gonna be okay, Rodimus?” Kicker asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his light jacket and gazed up at the flame-colored mech. His brown hair fluttered lightly around his crown and the nape of his neck, but didn’t turn golden—showing everything was normal and no one’s fields were in a mess right now.

“Some of his healing will take time, but he’ll be fine. Say, Kicker—since we’re running a bit early on taking you home after your internship, how would you like to visit Cybertron on our way back?” Rodimus asked, grinning down at the teenage boy.

“_Tch_, I’ve been to Cybertron before—Spike, Daniel and Dad took me there like five years ago or something,” Kicker pouted, nibbling lightly on his lower lip.

“Actually, I wanted to show you _something special_,” the flame-colored mech said, fondly. “You’ve really proven to have a unique point of view of things, so I’d like to show you something on Cybertron and find out what you think about it. Would you mind doing me this small favor?” He laughed.

“_Something special_?” The teenage boy gasped, looking up at Rodimus Prime with awe and anticipation.

“That’s right. Something _every_ Cybertronian has seen once in their lifetime, but something _no stranger_ has ever seen,” the flame-colored mech answered.

“_Rodimus!_ You’re **_not_** seriously going to………!” Slipstream gasped, knowing immediately what the young Autobot Leader was talking about.

“Slipstream, Vector Sigma hasn’t been producing new life as much as it should be doing, the Terrorcons are the most recent batch of new Cybertronians………..and all recent batches have been very small,” Rodimus Prime said. “Simply taking the Matrix of Leadership there hasn’t helped boost anything—I’ve tried several times in the last five years. Kicker clearly has something unique that normal humans _don’t have_ and I think there’s a reason for that. The Mini-Cons really like him and Storm said that they told her Kicker needs to visit the forge one day—that’s what Vector Sigma is in old Cybertronian. And now there’s Firedrive—he’s a _crafted mech_, like me. There was a reason Primus set us specially-crafted ones into existence.”

“I get to see………._Vector Sigma_?” Kicker gasped, excitedly. “You mean it, _really_? _Oh, man……….that’s like **really** cool_!”

“Then after we visit Chaar for a couple of days, we’ll go to Cybertron for a couple of days,” the flame-colored mech said, grinning down at the human teenager.

* * * * *

“**_Siiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeee!!!_**” Stormbreaker squealed, running down the boarding ramp, towards Galvatron.

The Decepticon Leader was waiting patiently on the landing platform, Novablaze and Cyclonus were to either of his sides and behind him, slightly. He grinned excitedly as his little femme jumped up into his arms and began to talk non-stop at him.

The rest of Rodimus’ crew disembarked at their own pace.

_Except for Rodimus Prime_.

Galvatron half-listened to his little femme’s words, but he stared at the _Arrowshot_, waiting for his Autobot lover to come out of the ship as well.

“He’s _not_ coming out, you know—he has something to take care of,” Kicker griped as he walked past Galvatron and gave him a kick at the large right pede, before he stopped in front of Novablaze.

As usual, Galvatron _didn’t even notice_ the armoured human teenager.

“Hey, Nova………what’s up?” Kicker laughed, placing his hands on his hips as he looked up at the young mech.

“All the usual craziness and nothing really different, Kicker,” Novablaze chuckled, reaching down and patting Kicker on the helmeted head. “Thanks for keeping an eye on my little sister, I appreciate it even if sire doesn’t,” he added with a grin.

All of the sudden Galvatron spun, shifted Stormbreaker to one arm, and moved his nova cannon to aim it down at Kicker. “_Human! Where is my Prime?!_” The Decepticon Leader snarled, staring down at the armoured human teenager.

“_Jeeze_, you need to chill Galvatron!” Kicker groaned, kicking at the Decepticon Leader’s boot once again. “He’s got a few things to take care of—like a prisoner he wants to place into one of your jail cells for a little while. But he’s got to set an environment appropriate for it—don’t you **_ever_** read the reports he sends you?” He snapped, kicking Galvatron’s boot another time.

Galvatron growled, but then a tiny servo slapped the cheek of his faceplate and he turned his attention back to Stormbreaker in his other arm.

“_Sire! You **aren’t **listening to me!_” She whined in Cybertronian, slapping Galvatron’s cheek again. “I have **_lots_** of pictures and stuff! _You need to pay attention_!” She pouted. “And leave Kicker alone, **_he’s my friend_**!” She added, giving Galvatron’s cheek one more slap.

“Lord Galvatron, I shall go assist the Prime with his prisoner—you should spend time with your offspring until the Prime has finished what he needs to do,” Cyclonus said, dipping his shoulders at Galvatron as he stepped past his leader towards the _Arrowshot_. He strode off quickly to avoid having to stop Galvatron from murdering the human boy for insolence.

“**_My Novablaze! We are going to the palace, so that my Stormbreaker may show us the mementos of her most recent trip!_**” Galvatron said, his voice excessively loud, simply to annoy the human teenager.

Kicker used a gesture that Galvatron didn’t even understand and that his own father would likely break **_all_** of his fingers for, if he saw it. The three Mini-Cons warbled softly and patted Kicker’s shoulders.

“_Why_ do you think it fun to piss Galvatron off?” Metalhawk groaned as he and Fangry walked past, holding servos, heading for the Autobot Embassy.

“_Meh_,” Kicker responded, shrugging, walking after the two lovers as the Mini-Cons trailed him.

Meanwhile, back on the _Arrowshot_……….

“Prime, I received your message and have furnished a cell for an organic—appropriate to the atmosphere of Telos,” Cyclonus said, approaching Rodimus Prime and Sixshot in the corridor of the large ship. He looked down to see a small black-and-grey mech standing with them.

“Thanks, Cyclonus—sorry to be a burden already. Do you mind that we leave him on Chaar until we hear from the Galactic Alliance on what to do with him?” Rodimus asked, looking at his lover’s lieutenant with a smile.

“I think you are right to leave him here. With Chaar’s lack of atmosphere favorable to organics, if he tries to escape _he will likely die_,” the purple-and-grey mech responded, no emotion in his voice whatsoever.

“We’re not certain if his cyborged portions may prolong survival in an airless climate or not, so keep a very good optic on him at all times,” Sixshot added, handing Cyclonus a datapad with all of his security reports on it for this particular trip. Cyclonus acknowledged that with a light grunt. “We currently have him in a stasis cube. I’ll help escort him to the cell on Chaar.”

“_Um_, Cyclonus………..are you angrier than usual at me?” Rodimus asked as the Decepticons’ Second-in-Command went into the empty hab suite with Sixshot, he hovered at the door.

“_At you_, I am not irked—it is _the human_ that is with you, he must always pick a fight with Galvatron every time he visits, it seems,” Cyclonus said, waving a dismissive servo in Rodimus Prime’s direction.

“_Jeeze, Kicker……….seriously_?” The flame-colored mech muttered, facepalming himself. “Should I go to see Galvatron now or……?” He asked as Cyclonus examined the stasis cube when Sixshot picked it up effortlessly.

“He is currently with young Novablaze and Stormbreaker at the palace. I believe you have a short amount of free time, though he was hoping for your attention right away,” the loyal lieutenant responded, turning to the flame-colored mech.

“All right. Tell him I’m going to be at the northern ruins, then,” Rodimus said, firmly. “Firedrive, Minerva will take you and your friends to the embassy.”

“Got it, Prime,” the grey-and-black little mech said, turning to head to the medi-bay.

As soon as he exited the _Arrowshot_, Rodimus Prime transformed into his camper-trailer form and drove out to an older part of Chaar with some barely recognizable ruins, just to the north of the palace and main city area. He used his tool-adaptor in his left arm to reverse a vacuum onto a worn old stone slab that probably once served as part of a housing foundation on the planet, blowing away ages of dust and debris. He sighed deeply and stretched his arms out behind him as he sat down and looked up at the stars in the sky of Chaar. He incycled a deep breath, offlined his optics and glyph-messaged Ultra Magnus.

**|Magnus, we’ll be back on Cybertron in a few days. I’m going to have to go down to the _Chamber of the Forge_ again and see if I can get Vector Sigma to talk with me.|**

**|Will you be taking young Kicker back to Athenia _early_, then?|**

**|Kicker will be coming with me. As will one of our new allies. I think it’s time to look a little more into the depths of our history.|**

**|Kicker? But _why_? He’s a human!|**

**|I know, but…….Kicker is very different than all other humans. _There’s a reason for that_. Just like Vector Sigma crafted me specifically for something. And one of our new allies is like me—specially-crafted by Vector Sigma.|**

“Are you in a nap-cycle, Prime?” A familiar voice said, as a familiar servo gripped his chin in a very familiar way.

“Just glyphing Magnus, my lord. You _finally_ have time for me?” Rodimus Prime chuckled, giving a parting message to his Second-in-Command, onlining his optics and looking up at Galvatron. “_Ah_, you look magnificent as always, my Emperor.”

“And your glossa always speaks such flatteries to me, my Prime,” Galvatron chuckled, sitting down next to the flame-colored mech on the ancient slab. He reached around and grabbed Rodimus’ hip, tugging the young Autobot Leader closer to his own frame. “You kept your promise to me. The fleshling watched over my Stormbreaker and she is unharmed and as energetic as always.”

“Why do you and Kicker get so argumentative with each other? Honestly, you both act like _sparklings_ when you’re around each other!” Rodimus laughed, snuggling up against Galvatron’s familiar bulky frame. He leaned his head against the right shoulder pillar and incycled a deep breath and then exvented with happiness rippling through his field.

“_Nnnngh_. He reminds me too much of **_you_**—and trust me, Prime, _I only need **one of you** in my life_!” Galvatron grunted, wrapping his own EM field full of possessiveness around his Autobot lover. “How long has it been this time?” He sighed, treasuring the familiar warm of the mech next to him—it always soothed his Spark and made him feel calm when they had moments like this.

“_Ten months. Two weeks. And three days_,” Rodimus Prime chuckled, bringing his right servo up to rest the palm against the Decepticon brand on his lover’s chest. “But I’ve occupied myself fully in that absence. What about you?” He teased, leaning into Galvatron and reaching up to brush lips along the harsh ridge of the powerful warmachine’s chin.

“_Always!_ But I am proud of you finally loosening up on the having-a-lover part of your life,” Galvatron chortled. “And how is Ultra Magnus in the berth these days, _mmmm_?” He teased, just as much as his younger lover was teasing him.

“Magnus and I are still a bit awkward. But it’s getting better since last year and all,” Rodimus chuckled, moving his frame around and straddling Galvatron’s lap.

“Ultra Magnus has _always_ seemed awkward in personal things, it does not surprise me. However, I feel it does you good—and it does him good as well. For the both of you, to take such a step together, means that your lives will grow and become more enriched,” the purple-and-grey mech purred, wrapping his arms around Rodimus Prime’s frame and digging his claws into the familiar aft. “See, my Prime—having me and having another lover has not been such a bad experience, has it? _Tell me the truth!_” He inquired, his voice going to a low and rough growl.

“_No_. _You’re right_. It’s been a good experience for me,” the flame-colored mech chuckled, his servos stroking Galvatron’s shoulder pillars fondly. “Magnus is a really good companion. We do things together that you and I would probably never do together.”

“_Oh? Such as?_” Galvatron chortled, grinning so excitedly that his sharp incisor dentae were showing.

“We go to movies. We talk. We lay out under the stars and think deep thoughts together,” the young Autobot Leader laughed, leaning forwards and resting his forehead against Galvatron’s. He offlined his optics and reveled in the presence and frame of his beloved sparkmate.

“**_Gah! You two do not frag?!_**” The powerful Decepticon Leader groaned. He also offlined his optics to cherish the presence of the lover he cherished more than any other lover in the universe.

“_Sometimes_ we do. But it’s **_not _**the fragging that’s important to me in that particular relationship, Galvatron. It’s the warmth and the support that Magnus gives me,” Rodimus Prime responded, bringing his servos up to caress a couple of the tines on Galvatron’s crowned helm.

No matter the direction their lives both headed, even if they parted ways—the Spark-bond they shared was the string tying them together for all eternity. Even Rodimus Prime’s “_fond companionship_” kind of relationship that he currently shared with Ultra Magnus didn’t change the fact that he loved Galvatron with all of his Spark. And Galvatron still looked forward to spending time with Rodimus, still looked forward to interfacing and sometimes even of sharing Sparklight with the young flame-colored mech—things that he would also **_never_** do with any of his other lovers. Other Decepticons were there when Galvatron needed them to satisfy hungers and needs, but _only Rodimus Prime_ filled in everything else that the powerful warmachine never knew he ever needed. Finally they could both have other relationships freely and treasure the unbreakable bond that they both shared forever.

“_I love you, Galvatron—with all of my Spark and program_,” the flame-colored mech murmured, very softly, his field flowing around Galvatron with love and longing drifting through it.

“_And you are still my most glorious treasure, Rodimus Prime—Hot Rod—my one and only Prime,_” Galvatron purred, one of his servos staying firmly on the familiar red aft, as the other drifted up and brushed over the centerpiece of the sunbright yellow spoiler fin.

Optics still offline for the both of them, they engaged in each other through the pleasure of touch and taste, as their lips met and their glossa slid against one another. Galvatron’s engines began to rev up and Rodimus Prime began to purr eagerly, rocking his hips so that they collided with his powerful lover’s.

“Now, tell me, my Prime—are we to frag with our optics offline as well? Because _that_ would be a shame. You have the most delicious erotic expressions when I frag you,” Galvatron chuckled, his lips grazing over Rodimus’ chin and down to the now-eagerly-bared neck-cabling.

“I have never heard you ever use the word _‘delicious’_…………**_and I love it_**!” Rodimus Prime laughed, grabbing two of Galvatron’s crown-tines and pulling his lover’s face into his neck-cabling with longing. “I hope you plan to frag me all night long, my Emperor…………because even though I may be dating another mech, it _hasn’t _tamed my sex-drive in the least!”

Galvatron gave some light nibbles on the neck-cabling before he tossed his head back and roared with laughter. “_Oh, my Prime—**never change**!_ You are always such a brilliant light in my life!” Galvatron said, fiercely, rising up to his pedes with the flame-colored mech practically wrapped around his frame. Then he turned and very physically threw Rodimus Prime down onto the stone slab. “You may keep your optics offline if you wish, but I intend to gaze upon your glorious frame as I frag you long into the night!” He chortled, onlining his own optics and he gazed down at the flame-colored frame sprawled out on the stone slab.

“Then I’m just going to keep enjoying the sensations, because putting my optics offline makes everything else so very tasty and intense, my Emperor!” Rodimus responded with a soft laugh.

“_Tasty_? **_Now_** who is using unusual words tonight?” Galvatron laughed warmly, leaning over his lover and scraping his claws over the flame-colored mech’s groinplating. “Before I give you what we both desire, tonight—you will promise to fill me in with what is bothering you, will you not, my Prime?” The powerful mech murmured, leaning even further along the flame-colored frame to whisper it in Rodimus’ audials.

All these years and Galvatron **_still_** knew him inside and out. Rodimus used the perception of Galvatron’s frame leaning over him to reach up and [_hopefully_] lay a servo gently on his powerful lover’s neck. His perception of presence, even with his optics offline, seemed to be accurate as he pulled his lover’s head down and their foreheads touched.

“Yeah, _I will_,” Rodimus Prime sighed, very softly. “But **_not_** right now……….it’s been ten months, two weeks and three days and I want you to frag the hell out of me right now, my lord.”

“I suppose I can do that. _Open_,” Galvatron chuckled, fondness coloring the deep tone of his voice. He was pleased to see such a generous response from his younger lover and instantly pressed two digits into the wet-and-eager valve. Rodimus’ back arched and he gave a soft, keening whine of pleasure. The powerful Decepticon Leader saw the biolights along the transfluid pressure line of his lover’s spike start to pulse more rapidly and drops of pre-transfluid began to leak from the head of the organ. _‘As usual, his first overload will be here before I am ready for anything else—clearly my eager young Prime still has all his sexual energy and that has not diminished, though he has finally taken a lover to his berth,’ _Galvatron thought, smiling as he increased the thrust of his fingers and waited for the explosive response that came almost instantly.

“_Mmmmm_……..that felt **_so nice_**. But you know what would be nicer, my dear Emperor?” Rodimus said, stretching languidly and rubbing the palms of his servos down his frame in a seductive manner. His optics were still offlined, but he felt the lust in Galvatron’s EM field increase, so he knew that he was about to get fragged, as he _really wanted_.

“_My spike_, of course,” Galvatron responded, as he tossed his head back and he roared with laughter. “To be perfectly honest, I would like to be in your valve as well, my Prime.”

“Well then……….how about making **_both_** our desires come true, my lord?” The flame-colored mech said, his tone light and teasing.

Then Rodimus Prime felt the power of Galvatron’s frame move above him and heard a bit of cracking in the stone beneath his own frame as the powerful Decepticon’s weight shifted and he straddled the flame-colored mech’s hips. He felt the strong and familiar servos grip his hips and lift them a little bit, which was soon followed by the thick penetration of his lover’s spike—_which always felt so perfect and amazing inside of him!_ Rodimus arched his back and mewled for more, as Galvatron began to thrust his hips rapidly, bringing them both to the climax and falling into the pleasure that came afterwards.

**Author's Note:**

> Well...……..yes, I've dropped a massive bomb on you all and you can fully expect this to be explained in future chapters of the five-year filler "During That Time". XD
> 
> I'd like to add what can be considered "research notes" now. As this expanded universe spinning out of Generation One/Season Three has come to encompass the Japanese series that came afterwards and the toys in some way, shape or form...……..now we have what in the 80's and 90's fans called "Targetmasters", "Action Masters" and "Micromasters". As time went on (and likely Hasbro lost naming rights, as they did...…...and would rather make up something new than spend money to acquire the right again), the basic "Micromaster" became "Mini-Cons". Hasbro brought "Headmasters" back as "Titan Masters" in recent years...…...and now, with the "Siege" toyline, they've brought back Targetmasters and the Action Master battle partners as "Battle Masters". Oh, and "Micromasters" are now a thing again, too, with "Siege".
> 
> So, what I've done here is encompass all of it to liken it to the Transformers own origins in season 3 as Quintesson creations............the overall "species" are "Mini-Cons" and they were created by Vector Sigma. There are two line delineations that may be likened to Autobots and Decepticons............there are general purpose mechs and femmes called "Micromasters" and then there are combat-oriented mechs and femmes called "Battle Masters".
> 
> Firedrive is the modern renaming of Hot Rod's Targetmaster Firebolt--if you didn't catch that. :)


End file.
